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Titans Tower. 0805 Hours. 22 JULY 2014

After a night to rest and recover, the Teen Titans entered the main room to find Starfire and Robin already occupying it. The latter stood before the large television screen, which displayed a stony harbor, large ships floating upon dark waters despite the morning's light. Starfire was in the kitchen, humming happily as she prepared a breakfast for her comrades. Grabbing a sticky bun from the fridge, Beast Boy skirted about the bubbling pot that he was fairly certain growled at his passage and leapt onto the couch. He bit into the pastry with great zeal as he studied the screen before a smirk bloomed upon his face.

"You spend last night with Star?"

"What? No," Robin denied quickly, turning back towards the screen. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because your mask is crooked," he answered. "Oh, and the hickie."

"And the embarrassment that would be obvious to the blind," Raven added, joining Beast Boy on the couch with a cup of tea in her hands.

"And Star was just gushin' about how sweet and wonderful you were last night," Cyborg finished, dropping on the other side of the changeling.

The ebony-haired boy hurriedly corrected his mask and tried to pull up his collar as he grumbled, "Try to focus, team. Remember that there's still a criminal out there that we need to catch."

"Careful, dude. Talk like that is what triggered your intervention," warned the changeling as he bit into the cinnamon bun. He chewed it before conceding, "Well, that and the Red X thing and that time we thought you were hallucinating Slade, which, y'know, technically, you -"

A band of dark energy covered his mouth, silencing him and his ears drooped as he turned to glare at Raven who sipped her tea and instructed, "Don't talk with your mouth full."

"ANYWAY," Robin barked, causing all of them to jump as he glowered at them before pointing to the screen. "The mass spectrometer completed the analysis of the mud from Kraken's boots. There were certain identifiers that allowed us to narrow the source down to this harbor."

"Which yacht has all the chicks in bikinis?" Beast Boy asked, his mouth free from its muzzle. "I should probably search that one. Because, you know, ch-"

"Chicks dig the ears," interjected the grey girl at his side, her tone sour. "We know."

"See? Exhibit A," he declared happily. She rolled her eyes and merely took another draught of her tea, not bothering with a response as Robin frowned.

"This is a shipping yard. They're all freight ships, so good luck finding anybody in a bikini."

He turned to the keyboard and executed a few precise keystrokes and the image focused upon a rusted cargo ship that was in poor repair. Red paint, once a bright crimson, along its sides had been stripped away by the weather and wear, and not a window remained that did not bear some crack or jagged gap. Droppings from seagulls and other passing avians splattered the deck, and the craft looked ready to sink into the dark waters.

"This is La Concorde. It'sowned by Edwards Freight, a British shipping company that's been facing a rough patch for a while now. Their fleet's dwindling, and they've been forced to moor this ship for the past year, with only a monthly crew checking it to make sure it doesn't sink. I think it's where Kraken is hiding," Robin announced.

"Why?" Raven asked.

With a few keystrokes, the scene was replaced with shifting hues displaying the heat signatures of the area, including a humanoid shape that moved through the abandoned halls. As they watched, the figure stepped into a small room, fiddled with something for a moment, and sat down. Beast Boy stifled a chuckle and sang, "I always feel like . . . Somebody's watching meeeeeeee!"

"I tapped into a satellite feed," Robin said quickly as he switched the view to the regular cameras. "The remaining ships in the area have accounted for their crews, but I haven't been able to get through to the head of Edwards Freight."

"We're goin' after him, right?" Cyborg asked, folding his arms over his broad chest.

"Not before the breaking of our nightly fast!" Starfire interjected, carrying the pot that had, ostensibly, been cooking upon the stove.

"Already ate!"

"I'm fine."

"Better go get the T-Car started."

As the other Titans rapidly vacated the premises, Starfire's gaze fell upon her boyfriend who fought valiantly against the pout she leveled at him. A voice inside his wistfully wished that he had spent more time mastering the art of suddenly disappearing. Realizing he was upon the brink of succumbing, he turned towards the computer and closed out the connection to the satellite. His tone was rushed as he reasoned, "We really don't know anything about this Kraken guy. I mean, he could be getting ready to skip town, and we should stop him before he has the chance to get away."

He turned to suddenly find her hovering before him, and he nearly jumped as she leaned in to conspiratorially whisper, "Robin, I am beginning to suspect that our friends do not like my cooking."

"What?" he laughed, thankful for the mask that let him avoid her gaze. "Star, that's crazy. You're an amazing cook."

His eyes slipped to the pot still in her hands and was surprised to see that it looked semi-edible. It was a lumpy, flesh-colored paste that, if he squinted, distantly resembled pudding. A spoon was stuck in it and despite the canted pot, and it remained unmoving, rising from the supposed meal like some valiant flag posted on a harsh, alien environment. For a second, he thought he saw something move within the mixture, and he worked to convince himself that it was merely it shifting due to gravity.

Marshaling every skill that he had learned from Batman, all the preachings about stoicism and playing a role, he reached out and grabbed the spoon. With Arthurian effort, he pulled it from the sludge and, without gazing at it, shoved the glob into his mouth. He let it sit for a moment to complete the illusion before gulping it down and smiling at his bright-eyed girlfriend.

"It's delicious, Star. Now how about we go kick some butt?"

"Most eagerly, dearest boyfriend!" she answered enthusiastically. She flew to deposit her breakfast upon the counter before zooming back towards the door, catching Robin's arm and dragging him with her.

Undisclosed Location. XXXX Hours, XX XXXX 20XX

The rifle was heavy in his hands, and a small shake of his head removed the mix of dirt and sweat from his brow before it could drop into his eyes. It was a useless gesture within the thick darkness that was stirred into disorienting chaos by the dancing fires in the distance. He had lost his googles in the initial contact with the enemy and though he had had escaped without injury, he had been split from his brothers-in-arms. Occasionally, their shouts would pierce through his darkness, but when he turned, it was suddenly coming from behind him again. Gunfire ripped through the shifting shadows, and there were horrid screams, followed by sharp exclamations in a guttural language he could not identify.

Finally, after he was overwhelmed by the fear of dying alone and lost in the dark, he charged to the fires. His own panted breaths and gasps sounded in his ears as he crashed through the trees and dense underbrush, finger hovering outside of the rifle's trigger well. The growing volume of the shouts and gunfire spurred him to speeds he had struggled to attain all his life.

A stout branch caught him in the chest, but his legs kept going, pedaling in the air for a moment before he crashed roughly to the ground and the breath rushed out of his lungs. For a moment, he made no movements, simply attempted to regain the breath his vest seemed intent from keeping from him. Struggling to sit up, he realized that his weapon had been knocked from his grasp and he scrabbled in the darkness for it, his panic rising until there was the all-too close shriek of gunfire and he was showered in splinters from an injured tree.

Abandoning his firearm, he pressed to the earth and crawled forward as the fires finally began to grow closer and bullets continued to arch over his head. There was an agonized shriek, and he suddenly found himself unpinned, no longer hounded by gunfire. Bounding to his feet, he charged towards the fire, leaping out from the eternally dark brush into the warm glow - and found himself staring down the muzzle of a rifle. He didn't see the face behind it, didn't see the near skeletal limbs and underdeveloped body, as his training took over. For a second, the world blurred and by the time it righted itself, the weapon was in his hands and its previous owner was on the ground.

The boy, the child, was young, definitely no older than his nephew and certainly in inferior shape. Clothes smeared with dirt and blood pooled about the child's gaunt frame and the his feet were left bare, covered in scratches from his journeys. Surprise was immortalized in the now glassy eyes and some cruel light made it seem as though they lifted towards the hole ripped through the child's forehead and out the back of his skull. A crimson puddle was gathering beneath the child's head and the soldier began to tremble as he found his own reflection in it.

Sound faded away as the rifle tumbled from his hands and he stumbled backward before dropping to the ground. His throat burned and he threw his head to the side to vomit his previous meal onto the forest floor. Tears gathered in his eyes and his stomach retched, but was too empty to supply the next wave of nausea. Strands of the foul matter clung to his chin, dripping onto the armored vest and he stared at the child, unable to cease the tremors that had consumed his body. Finally, he managed to tear his gaze away from the horror, and instantly wished that he had not.

Three more children lay spread about the fire, another had fallen into the blaze and he was stricken by another surge of horrified disgust at the scent of burning flesh. Their throats had been torn open with terrible savagery and one had been gutted, entrails spilling from his sunken stomach. Crouching by one of them was the terrible frame of a man in armor, wiping the red humor from his long, serrated knife and glanced up curiously at his fallen comrade. Doused in shadow by the fire, the tall man had offered a broad grin that gleamed ominously as a soul-chilling chuckle spilled from the pristine teeth.

"Thanks for the hand, kiddo. We might make a killer outta ya yet."

The words and image of the dead child lingered even as the dream ended, and jaded eyes snapped open, gazing at the thin tendrils that wavered before his face, the most obvious sign of his agitation. With a simple thought, he retracted them back into the pockets imbedded under his skin and he sat up. Grinding a weathered palm into his eyes, he threw toned legs over the edge of the cot and blinked at the cramped room. Pulling on a pair of cargo pants, he rose and picked up the black sleeveless shirt thrown onto the back of the rickety chair and tugged it on. Old scars twisted along his body, most faded, but there was a striated mass on his bicep where it looked as though the flesh had been stripped away. Periodically arranged along his limbs and body were small, metal ports emerging from his skin, crooked black lines erupting from them.

Within what had once been the captain's bunk, he settled into the old chair next to an equally miserable table that he had scavenged from elsewhere in the ship. Upon it was Kraken's slick suit and helm, the broken lens replaced and scratches devoutly buffed out. A sleeping bag was rolled out on the suspended cot and a duffel bag was set at the head to serve as a pillow. Bags of beef jerky, lollipops, and other non-perishables were piled beneath his bed, and a tendril snaked from one of the ports to an open bag, retrieving a tootsie pop. It was joined by another and the wrapper was deftly removed and discarded in a grocery bag that was partially filled with trash. The tendril coiled about the candy's stalk, deposited the bulb in the man's open mouth, and the treat cracked as his teeth clamped down upon it.

He sucked on the lollipop, rotating the stick that jutted out from his mouth as he tested the new lens he had installed. Content with its security, he placed it back upon his suit and paced the span of the room, knowing sleep would not be returning to him anytime soon. The old ghosts had been stirred from their shallow resting places and they would not give him peace for at least a week. Experience told him that, in time, his body would succumb to sleep, but it would be short, fitful, and leave him feeling more tired then before it. Alcohol and other self-prescribed medications offered no solace and the terrors of his dreams seemed to increase tenfold, punishment for the attempt at escape.

Dropping to the floor, he began a series of rapid push-ups, descending until his upper arms were parallel with the floor before he rose again. The redundant exercise quieted the ghosts clinging to him as his focus shifted to the growing burn in his muscles and the increasing shortness of breath. His desperate work-out was interrupted by a chiming sound from overhead, and he looked towards the dilapidated table. Lifting a hand, a tendril slithered from the port in his palm, and gathered up his phone, bringing it to his hand. A smooth bass, tired but otherwise unaffected by the specters that chased him, emerged from his throat as he answered it.

"This is Kraken."

His neutral expression fell at the response and he grumbled, "What are you doing? This is my work phone. I - No, it's always good to hear from you - especially right now - but I -"

A scowl grew at the answer and he sat on the edge of his bed, placing one hand upon his head.

"Of course I'm not going to answer my personal phone. I'm working. What do you want?"

He paused again, dragging his hand across his face as he sighed.

"No, it's . . . It's nothing . . . I'm just . . . The dreams. They're coming back . . . No, no. Don't worry about it. I'll-I'll work through it."

There was a purred response and he managed a weak chuckle, pulling the lollipop from his mouth as he answered his conversationalist.

"I certainly appreciate it, but I'll have to turn down that offer. I have a job to do . . . Yeah, the pay's good enough, but it's . . . You've heard of the Teen Titans? . . . Yeah, it's them. No, no, I can handle it . . . I just - I don't understand how these so-called heroes can put kids through this stuff. It's not like -"

He was interrupted by a beeping sound that emerged from his cot and he crawled over to the screen that he had strapped to the wall beside the cot. The monitor displayed the cautious entry of the Teen Titans as they made their way onto the craft, caught on a camera he had hidden on the railing connected to the bridge. He sighed as he sat up and said, "Hey, they managed to find me. I need to take care of this. I'm probably going to have to . . . Thanks. I'll talk to you later, okay? . . . Yeah, yeah, hugs and kisses. Bye."

A tendril coiled about the phone before tightening and crushing it, ensuring that no data would be salvaged from any of its components as Kraken lifted his helmet from the table, his grim face and sunken eyes reflected in its visor.

Jump City South Harbor. 1016 Hours, 22 JULY 2014

Upon the ship's deck, the Titans advanced carefully, moving in pairs as Starfire floated above them, ensuring that no traps had been laid. They had spotted the miniature camera too late, and had since deactivated it as they continued their search. The signal of grudging affection and irritation that Raven had felt from the lower decks had since disappeared and she struggled to find it again. Beast Boy shifted into a bloodhound before gagging and quickly shifting back into his human form, pinching his nose.

"All right, so beneath all the fish, saltwater, and guano, our new favorite creepy-crawler is definitely hanging out here."

"How charming," Raven muttered.

"I don't know," Beast Boy mused, stroking his chin before putting out his hands to frame the deck. "Just needs some feng shui-ing. Definitely gonna wanna go with the whole creepy ghost ship vibe it's already got going. Clear away the droppings, put up a fog machine over there, get some spooky sea shanties playing . . ."

Robin frowned as he wandered through the control room that rose above the deck, its enclosed space making it one of the few apparently clean places on the ship. A layer of dust had gathered upon the panels, and he brushed it away as a thought, checking the gauges more out of curiosity than any suspicion. With a sigh, he exited the cabin to meet up with Cyborg who had checked the surrounding interiors, and signified that they were empty with a small shake of his head.

They were pulled from their search by a scream that shattered the evening, and they raced forward to witness Starfire being slammed into the deck with enough force to create a considerable dent. Rising over the sides of the vessel were dozens of Kraken's slender tendrils, many binding and twisting together. They stabbed into the deck, burrowing into the metal and the ship lurched.

"This is not some game for you kids to be playing," Kraken's voice roared from the loudspeakers. "You should be going to dances, playing games and sports, staying up too late. Not putting your lives on a line for a crusade that should be left to, at the very least, some adults."

"Think he practiced that speech?" Beast boy mused to the sorceress as he morphed into a pterodactyl and lifted into the air.

"We have the ability to help people! As long as we can, it is our responsibility to do so!" Robin shouted as he launched birdarangs to cut through the tendril that had captured Starfire.

"Okay, be honest now. You spent at least an hour last night coming up with responses to this guy, didn't you?" accused the changeling.

Not expecting an answer, he swooped through the tentacles, leading them in a chase to tangle them together. They struggled with the knot that they had been tied into before seeming to meld together and then pull free easily, grappling for the pterodactyl who squawked and ducked out of the way. As they closed in about him, he shifted into a spider monkey and hooted as he swung through the tendrils. Landing upon one of them, he changed into a burly chimp and wrapped his numerous digits about it, struggling to pull it apart before other tendrils grabbed at him and he bounded away.

"You have the frequency ready?" Robin asked Cyborg as he drew a pair of birdarangs. Cyborg's arm reconfigured into a sonic cannon and he checked the readings on it before nodding grimly.

"Booyah," he confirmed.

"Then let's go," the Boy Wonder leapt from his perch on the railing, sending his weaponry spinning forward. Following behind him, Cyborg blasted an approaching tentacle and it vibrated under the frequency of his blast before crumbling apart. Landing heavily upon the deck, he blasted the tentacles with a frequency that broke the bonds between the nanocells, reverting them to their inactive state. Metallic dust collected upon the deck and in the water as he fired at the wavering targets that never seemed to decrease.

Starfire ducked between the grasping tentacles, occasionally providing the simian Beast Boy with a hand, or a much-needed lift, as he swung about the jungle of whirring tendrils. Abandoned shipping containers levitated into the air, deflecting Kraken's attacks and often turning to pin them long enough for Cyborg to unleash a blast. Raven floated in the center of the chaos, her arms extended and her eyes glowing black as she manipulated her arsenal, always leaving one to linger at her side in case of defense. Weaving through the serpentine limbs, Robin launched his birdarangs at them, conserving the ones he had hastily constructed to unleash the same pulse as Cyborg's sonic cannon.

"How much more do you to need to suffer before you children learn that you shouldn't be doing this?" Kraken growled through the speakers. A series of the tendrils that had been snaking along the deck suddenly snapped up to coil about Cyborg's sonic cannon and the techno-teen screamed as they bit and twisted into it, crushing the mechanical forearm in their grip. "You've been beaten, you've been betrayed, you've lost people you care about - and you're only children! Do you have any idea what you're doing? What you're risking?!"

"Our lives," Raven answered. "And if it can save a single life, the risk is worth it."

There is a moment of hesitation before a cold, world-weary voice responds, "No. It isn't."

Beast Boy landed heavily upon the deck in the form of a massive gorilla, grunting as he seized the tentacles entrapped about Cyborg's arm and mustered the strength to rip them apart. As the disconnected portions dissipated, their sources coiled and grabbed Beast Boy's wrists and ankles, hauling him into the air before dragging him into the water. He changed as he was submerged, turning into a great white that thrashed against his capture, churning the bay. Adjusting to the murky waters, stirred by the thrashing tendrils and his own struggles, he saw Kraken, tentacles crawling from every port of his body and reaching upward. He was in civilian attire save for his helmet, and the visored gaze turned to coldly regard the changeling.

The restraints tightened about him for an instant before he was hurled back out of the water, arching through the air. Startled by the sudden shift in his environment, he did not think to change until he was crashing back into the ocean, several hundred yards away from the ship and his friends. With one Titan displaced and another disarmed, Kraken made another attempt at enlightening the team, trying to keep the pleading tone from his voice.

"You kids want to help the world? Join the Boy Scouts. Start a fundraiser. Actually go to school. It doesn't really matter, just stop throwing yourselves at every murderer, rapist, and other monster that crawls out of the cesspits of this goddamn planet!"

"Which one of those are you?" Cyborg grumbled, one hand pressed to his ruined stump.

Tendrils hovered over him and he dove to the side, rolling to his feet as they shot after him. As the first reached for him, he spun about and hacked at it with the jagged shard of metal from one of the shipping containers that had been ripped apart, stabbing it into the ground. The crude armament failed to cut through the encroaching limbs, but it was enough to keep them from seizing him momentarily until one struck at his crippled limb. A scream tore from his mouth as metal shrieked and wires snapped with the removal of his mangled, cybernetic forearm that the tendrils callously tightened about, fully reducing it to scrap.

"Cyborg!"

Robin's distraction, his worry for his downed friend, was quickly taken advantage of as the writhing lashes snapped out towards him. Gritting his teeth, he threw one of the preserved birdarangs into their midst and leapt away as it detonated, reducing the mass to silvery dust. Another birdarang flickered into his hand but before he could launch it, a tendril coiled about his arm. Pulled up short, he became easy prey for the others and they wrapped about his extremities, hauling him into the air as one tightened about his neck. Raven turned towards him only to feel the ground beneath her shift and then explode into a tangle that bound about her.

"You will release my friends now before I make you regret fighting us."

Green energy glowed in Starfire's glare and her tone was imperious as she issued the order, filled with all the command and threat that the queen of Tamaran could harness. There was no response beyond the braiding of numerous tangles that then shot towards her. Starbolts blazed about her fists as she dove downwards, weaving around them and punching through the deck of the ship and the floors beneath it, disappearing from the view of the tentacles. A final boom sounded as she crashed through the bottom of the vessel, and the water frothed and boiling at her entry. Adjusting her aim, she zoomed towards the startled villain who attempted to form a barrier about his body, but even as the thought spread to his implants, her fists were upon his chest, searing his skin and shoving him into the ocean floor.

The force of the blow set him plummeting through the sandy ground below and the ship groaned as his tendrils pulled it along with him before going lax as his helmet cracked against a rock. Upon the ship, which was sinking regardless of his pull or not, the heroes were suddenly freed from the imprisonment that had seized about them. Being the first to recover, Raven streaked towards her comrades, struggling to help Cyborg to his feet as she collected his arm. A green dolphin crested the side of the violently rocking ship and shifted into a pterodactyl before he landed. Pushing his body against the deck, he shifted closer as Raven lowered Cyborg upon his broad back before she went to collect Robin.

Beast Boy carried his friend to the docks as the sorceress reached their desperately gasping leader, a hand massaging his throat where the band of the tendril had been pressed into his skin. He coughed and sputtered painfully as she lifted him and the changeling returned, offering a spare back that the avian-themed pair boarded. The sorceress tried to ease the dark-haired boy's struggle and his breathing started to return to normal as Beast Boy landed beside Cyborg who had sprawled out upon the docks, hurt but fully conscious. After his passengers had disembarked, the changeling skittered over to the typically larger youth and draped his wings across him, cradling his body

"Cy, dude, buddy - you're okay, right? Talk to me, tin man. Don't leave me!" Beast Boy wailed with what he felt was appropriate drama before Cyborg scowled and pushed him off.

"I'm practically used to it at this point. At least he didn't get anything organic," grunted the tall youth as he sat up on his own, examining his maimed arm in annoyance.

In the bay, the ship continued its slow descent into the waters as Starfire emerged, carrying a limp Kraken by the collar of his shirt. She cast him onto the stone docks and steam rose from her body as she began to dry herself off. Landing amongst her comrades, she sighed contentedly at the approaching scream of sirens, and stood over Kraken, ensuring that he was unconscious.

"I would very much like to put him in prison now," she said.

Premiani Penthouse. 2308 Hours, 22 JULY 2014

Alondra Arnetti sipped from a heavy-bottomed glass of amber liquor, one arm stretched across the back of her leather couch as she watched the news report with mild interest. A totaled police car lay on its side in a ditch, omni-directional holes tearing from its inside as the blonde reporter regaled the listeners of the emergency news bulletin with the escape of the supervillain Kraken. In the corner, a picture appeared of the lean-faced, blonde man and she cautioned her viewers to not engage and simply call the police if they saw him. Sitting at the edge of the couch, Cash frowned at the report, his elbows resting on his knees as he hunched over. As the scenes shifted to show the aftermath of the Titans' battle, Alondra pursed her lips in thought.

"Has anybody ever set up a betting operation on the outcome of fights between cabos?" she mused.

"Not beyond Roulette's enterprises," he supplied. "The lack of active viewing significantly complicates the process."

"But you could pull it off, non hai potuto?"

"Reaching such a desideratum would prove to be excessively byzantine," he grunted as he considered the task.

"English, por favor," she said before downing the rest of her glass.

"You would require extensive security measures. The acquisition of the donnybrooks should be easy enough, but given their alacrity in forming, a near instantaneous notification system would be required," he mumbled, thinking through the process. He shrugged and added as an afterthought, "Collecting the debts."

"Collection is easy," she dismissed his concern, shaking her empty glass at him. Taking note of it, he grunted in compliance and accepted it from her. His large hand enveloped the glass, but he carried it gingerly as he moved to the kitchen and pulled a frosted bottle from the fridge. Pouring its contents into her cup until it hovered beneath the rim, he returned the bottle to its place and the refilled glass to her. She smiled and nodded as she accepted it.

"Gracias."

He grunted his welcome as he carefully lowered his bulk onto the couch, leaning back against it as he ran a hand over his face.

"Considerable elements are beyond my ken. But I could track and record the altercations with the proper equipment and secure the website," he noted.

"Make a list," she advised. "I'll send some boys to pick up whatever you need. Which reminds me, how goes the relationship with our new business associates?"

"Predictably. Your parvenu engage in palaver dedicated to perfidy. Should I begin-"

"Espera, espera. My what are what?" she interjected with a teasing twinkle in her eyes.

"Parvenu. Noun. A person who has recently or suddenly acquired wealth, importance, position, or the like, but has not yet developed the conventionally appropriate manners, dress, etcetera," he snapped. Without taking a breath, he continued, "Palaver. Noun. A conference or discussion."

"And you couldn't just say that?"

"I refrain from criticisms of your dialect and mannerisms unless provoked. What infraction have I committed to earn such derision?"

"Fine, fine. Don't get your panties in a knot," she said, rolling her eyes before tapping a painted nail upon her glass. "Leave the idiotas alone for now. I shall call a meeting and attempt to persuade them, but be prepared. Your talents may yet be required."

"Got it, boss babe," he nodded as she smiled about the thick rim of her glass.

Here we go, another chapter up! We'll have one up for ACS tomorrow. We hope you enjoyed this second fight with Kraken and a slight view into his rather dark history. Meanwhile, Alondra continues her plots. As always, thanks for reading and please review!

Guest: Thanks! Glad to hear that. That'll come later. We figured we should give them some alone time for now. Cy and BB enjoy having fun. And Raven is a good friend, even if she sometimes has trouble expressing that.